


Like A River

by fencecollapsed



Series: Half-Infected Paul: Smut Edition [4]
Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Headcanon, Pegging, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Singing, Slime, Smut, Songfic, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:13:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25192984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencecollapsed/pseuds/fencecollapsed
Summary: Emma discovers that singing in the shower attracts the company of a certain alien roommate. This can be fun for both of them.
Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Series: Half-Infected Paul: Smut Edition [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1825015
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	Like A River

**Author's Note:**

> I'm being enabled to create smut and yknow what I don't even mind
> 
> Songs used:  
> I Really Like You by Carly Rae Jepsen  
> Bad Reputation by Joan Jett  
> River by Bishop Briggs

Emma was, at one point however brief, a theatre kid. Perhaps she took a year or two of choir in junior high. It was never  _ singing _ she had a problem with, it was being  _ forced _ to sing. When it's her own choice, she enjoys it quite a bit, actually. So once things have settled and enough time has passed after the end of Hatchetfield for it to be comfortable, she begins singing in the shower again.

It's nice. A little freeing. Emma's always thought she sounds best in the shower - something about the echo. She very quickly recognizes a slight issue, though.

_ "I really wanna stop, but I just got the taste for it. I feel like I could fly with the boy on the moon."  _ Emma's voice echoes off the linoleum as she runs her soapy fingers into her hair.  _ "So honey, hold my hand, you like making me wait for it. I feel like I could die walking up to the room, oh yeah. _

Carly Rae Jepsen. Maybe not someone Emma would admit to listening to openly, but the song is a fucking earworm, she thinks, it's not her fault if she likes it. 

_ "Late night watching television, but how'd we get in this position? It's way too soon, I know this isn't love. But I need to tell you something." _

She tosses her hair back, bouncing with the beat she knows by heart as she goes about her routine. Only snapping out of the song when she shifts the curtain back to grab a washcloth.

_ "I really really really really really really like-  _ PAUL?!"

She nearly slips, gripping the bar on the shower wall for leverage, because there indeed is Paul, sitting on the sink and tapping his hand, eyes glowing like they do when  _ he _ sings.

"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!" Emma huffs, pushing her wet hair out of her face. "What are you doing?"

Paul looks at her and blinks the glow away, like waking from a trance. He shakes himself.

"O-oh, uh, you were…" he smiles sheepishly. "You were singing…"

Oh. Right. Emma recalls what Hidgens discovered back on That Day. She had all but directly invited Paul in.

"You just sounded so nice," Paul continues, folding his fidgety hands in his lap. "I, uh, wanted to hear you. Sorry."

He pushes himself off the sink and starts to leave. Emma rolls her eyes.

"Don't sweat it, dork. I'll be out in a few, okay?"

"Okay." Paul pauses at the door, glancing back. "That song sounds sweet, I like it."

He leaves. Emma stays regretfully quiet for the rest of that shower, the earworm having left her head. It's not like she  _ minds _ Paul listening… it's not even his fault. He liked her voice enough he wanted to just sit and listen. Especially knowing what singing is to Paul now, something about that feels like high praise. She'd have let him stay, he just surprised her. She shuts off the water and grabs her towel, wondering why she can't stop thinking about it.

\--

Emma's not sure what compels her to see if it happens again a few days later. Maybe the scientist in her, wanting to conduct an experiment. Maybe wanting to hear him say her voice is nice again. Maybe she just wants an excuse to sing today.

_ "I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation! Livin' in the past, it's a new generation!" _

Joan Jett is less of a guilty pleasure. The woman's a fucking icon, after all. Emma pushes her hands through her hair, secretly wondering how long it might take.

_ "A girl can do what she wants to do, and that's what I'm gonna do. And I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation! Oh no, not me." _

Evidently, it doesn't take too long. Emma is only halfway into the next verse when she hears Paul knock on the door.

"Sup?"

"Hi, Em! I, uh, I didn't want to scare you again!" He calls awkwardly. "You sound… I like your voice! ...Is it okay if I listen?"

Emma smiles to herself. "Knock yourself out!"

She hears the door creak open through the curtain. Paul takes his seat up on the sink. Emma keeps singing, and it doesn't take long for Paul to start humming along. He doesn't even try to join her - it's just about the singing.

...Hm.

Is it  _ always _ just about the singing?

Emma pushes that question off for later, not wanting to get distracted. When she steps out, wrapped in her towel, Paul is waiting. His hands are coated in blue, messily cleaned from his face. He smiles at her sheepishly. 

"Thanks for letting me listen, you have a really nice voice."

Emma pecks his cheek. "That's sweet."

"I'll try not to bug you every time," he promises.

"What does it even feel like?" Emma asks. "Is it like, sonar, or…?"

Paul rubs the back of his neck, unsure how to describe it. "It's like… a call, I guess? Like… singing alone feels natural, and I hear music that goes with it. So outside music sort of pulls that out of me. I think my brain hears it as others like me, and draws me to it so I won't be alone." 

Emma frowns. "Doesn't it suck that it's just a regular human singing, then? Especially since you're not planning to infect me?"

"I'm not sure if the infection knows that, actually. Listening to you kind of fills that empty spot. As long as I'm with music that isn't just  _ me, _ I don't think it matters what the source is."

Emma nods as he explains, filing this away under things she understands about Paul.

"So it feels good?"

"Yea, I guess."

"Does it turn you on?"

Paul blinks. "What?"

"Sometimes you sing when we fuck. Does outside music ever turn you on?"

"Um… no. It hasn't at least. It probably  _ could, _ if the song was about sex or something, but I don't know. I haven't tried that before."

"Hm."

"Why are you asking?"

"Can't I just be curious?"

"I mean, yeah, but now I feel like you're plotting something."

Emma gives a fake-offended gasp. "I would do no such thing!"

"Okay, you're definitely plotting something." Paul stands and follows Emma as she marches from the bathroom.  _ "Penny for your thoughts, Em?" _

"No dice, music-man."

"Even if I say please?"

Emma pushes him out of the room and down the hall. "Let me get dressed, dumbshit! Drop it and you'll find out later."

So Paul drops it. And he will find out, in a little over a week.

\--

_ "How do you fall in love, harder than a bullet could hit'cha?" _

Paul's ears perk up. The hair on the back of his neck stands up. There it is again. Over the running water at the other end of the house, he can hear her. Emma's singing.

_ "How do we fall apart, faster than a hairpin trigger?" _

The edges of his vision line with blue, his eyes beginning to glow. His hand taps the rhythm of her song unconsciously against his thigh. 

_ "Don't you say, don't you say it. Don't say, don't you say it." _

He feels his legs carrying him to the bathroom. He needs to be with the song, Emma knows that. This is different than the last times, though. Does she know he can feel the intent in her voice? Does she know he can feel her vibrato burrowing under his skin? He's not sure, all he knows is it only feels better the closer he gets.

The door is open. Paul doesn't think to knock. Emma's silhouette moves behind the shower curtain. Her pretty figure, wetting her hair beneath the water.

_ "One breath, it'll just break it." _ The silhouette pauses, growing slightly larger, and pulls back the curtain from behind. Emma pokes her head out, hair dripping, a grin curling her lips as she looks up at Paul's blue-flushed face.  _ "So shut your mouth and I'll run ya like a river." _

Okay, so this is what she was planning.

She beckons with her hand and Paul doesn't think he's ever undressed so quickly in his life, let alone this afterlife. Emma pulls the curtain further back to let him join her, and he notices she's wearing her strap-on. His dick throbs - he hadn't even realized he was hard. She takes him by the shoulders and pulls him into a deep, wet kiss. The water is warm enough to fog up the bathroom mirror, but Emma's body is surely warmer. She takes his hands and guides them to her chest, her tits soaped-up and smooth. Paul obediently gropes her, deepening the kiss. Emma can see his eyes pulsing with light as they flutter open - part of him still wants the song. Pulling herself back from the kiss, Emma instead finds his cock, giving a slow stroke and teasing the blue arousal at the tip with her thumb.

_ "E-Emmaaaa," _

His jaw hangs open, blue dripping from his lips. It becomes a cascade thanks to the water, like washing out hair dye. Emma grins and brings her hand to his chin, swiping his mouth shut. Her fingers drag down his neck to his scarred chest. Paul whimpers at the loss of contact where he needs it, feeling his nose start to drip.

_ "Shut your mouth, baby, stand and deliver. Holy hands, will they make me a sinner?" _

Emma dips down to the shower floor and back up, drawing her light touch over his body as she sings. Paul's complaints are extinguished, the warmth of her voice tingling pleasure under his skin yet again. She could get away without touching him at all now, but God does he still want her to.

_ "Like a river." _ Her hands thread into his wet hair.  _ "Like a river." _

Emma stares into him, her deep, gorgeous brown eyes mesmerizing. Somehow, neither could possibly explain if they tried, but the song clicks into place in Paul's head. He syncs with a song he's never heard - he syncs with nothing but Emma's voice.

_ "Choke this love 'til the veins start to shiver," _ he carries Emma's hand to his throat, walking them back under the running water.  _ "One last breath 'til the tears start to wither." _

Emma grins in surprise. Paul's eyes are glowing bright, typically shrunken pupils dilated with arousal. If his completely blue-stained front is any indication, he is not maintaining his composure in the slightest. Emma hums, tracing her hand along his blue-slick jaw.

_ "Like a river. Like a river." _

Paul shudders, all but lost in their connection through the song. He's never experienced a feeling like this before. As Paul buries his face in Emma's neck, he doesn't know anything but the song and his aching desire to merge with it, and feel its source in her entirety. He nips at her skin and she grabs his wrists, yanking his arms away from her. Her gaze is challenging, his equally so. He completes the chorus.

_ "Shut your mouth and run me like a river." _

Emma tightens her grip and the flow of blue leaking from Paul's face only intensifies. Taking care to stay within the rhythm, she takes him by the shoulders, turns him around and pushes him up against the wall, drawing her hands over his back. He shudders. Pressing soft kisses to his back, Emma reaches around to his front to gather a suitable amount of slime and arousal (same thing) on her already wet fingers. Paul gasps as she presses against his hole, gently pulsing her finger in and out.

She hums.

Paul goes pliant. It's the same song, perhaps a new way of warming him up with sweet talk. That's how he translates it, at least. Emma feels him relax and adds another finger, stretching him wider. His back arches. Emma squeezes his shoulder - their code for "ready?"

Paul is already too far gone to speak. He nods, offering a needy little "mhm." Emma pulls her fingers out, gripping his ass with one hand and grabbing her dildo with the other. She pushes inside, gently, slowly, and the drawn out sigh hardly concealing a moan Paul lets out sends a rush of pleasure up her spine. She pushes deep until her hips meet his.

She rubs his back, checking in again, and Paul whimpers, giving another nod.

Emma pulls back and pushes in again, slowly. Paul's moan is whiny, but she appeases him quickly.

_ "Tales of an endless heart, cursed is the fool who's willing." _

Oh god. Paul's legs might as well give out right there, the sensation of Emma singing to him and fucking him simultaneously is enough to completely wreck him. From the way she draws her hand up his back, she knows it, too.

_ "Can't change the way we are, one kiss away from killing." _

Blue drips down the shower wall where Paul's face is pressed against it. She has to have practiced somehow, because he can  _ feel  _ the song inside him and her thrusts match the rhythm, and it feels so fucking  _ good. _ His body wants to sing but he can't manage a note, all he can do is moan.

_ "Don't you say, don't you say it. Don't say, don't you say it. One breath, it'll just break it. So shut your mouth, I'll run ya like a river." _

Paul sinks lower against the wall with a whine and Emma leans forward, kissing between his shoulder blades. Mumbling breathy lyrics against his skin, the sounds she earns from him are intoxicatingly obscene. And Emma thought she wrecked him just  _ talking _ dirty - she thinks maybe she should sing to him more often.

_ "Shut your mouth, baby, stand and deliver. Holy hands, will they make me a sinner?"  _ She reaches up to tug on his hair.  _ "Like a river. Like a river." _

She pulls his head back and he groans. Her other hand wraps lightly around his neck. Slime smears his face, yet his nose and mouth still leak. This section of the wall is practically painted blue, the water at the shower floor running the same. It makes Emma's ego swell a bit. She thrusts hard, leaning forward to nip at the shell of Paul's ear.

_ "Shut your mouth, I'll run ya like a river." _

Paul cries out, overwhelmed with pleasure. Emma takes her hand from his hair, slowly drawing her touch down his scarred torso before taking his dick in hand. She pumps in time with her rhythmic thrusts, her voice breathy.

_ "Choke this love 'til the veins start to shiver. One last breath 'til the tears start to wither." _

_ "Like a river," _

_ "Like a river."  _ Emma kisses his neck.  _ "Shut your mouth, I'll run ya like a river." _

Paul doesn't last a second longer. He moans through his orgasm, sinking to the shower floor, knees weak. Emma sinks with him, stroking his hair. His eyes are swirling with pleasure, bright cyan melting into navy. Emma pulls out and quickly shimmies out of her strap-on harness to pull her recovering, blue-drenched beau in her arms. It's a little cramped on the shower floor, but it's not like there's a more comfortable option at present.

"You okay?" She asks, stroking his chest. "Was that good?"

"Yeah," Paul nods breathlessly and nuzzles against her. "F-felt really good,"

"Good." Emma kisses his forehead before pulling away and giving a smirk. "Now, you don't think I planned all this just to get  _ you _ off, do you?"

Attentive and eager as ever, Paul adjusts to fit Emma's back to his front, her seated knees-up between his legs. The shower still running above them, he kisses her neck and slips two fingers inside her. Emma sighs. He's always so good at showing his thanks.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3  
> Something non-dirty coming soon fhskdhd


End file.
